


Strings

by drippingwithsin



Series: Pinocchio [2]
Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: Blackmail, F/F, Infidelity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-03-03 17:40:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13346214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drippingwithsin/pseuds/drippingwithsin
Summary: Joan begins to throw her weight around.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I suggest you read Puppet Masters before reading this or it might not make any sense.

 

A mouse amongst tigeresses, the governor strides boldly through the valley of the shadow of death, going deeper and deeper to the source of evil. Immaculate style bun held high, back straight her fearless facade belied only by the pounding of her heart and dewy palms.  

 

This will be the first time she and Joan have truly been alone since the whole incident with Bridget and in all honestly, she’s been avoiding it like the plague. But of course, that didn’t mean she was safe from Joan throwing her weight around. Quite the opposite in fact. 

 

Knowlege(blackmail) truly was power. 

 

Perched on the bunk, the beast of Wentworth herself looms motionless in the shadows seemingly staring at nothing.

 

Vera approaches the plexiglas and stabs the buzzer repeatedly until finally, a regal silver and ebony mane turns ever so slowly.

 

“Hello, Gov’na.” Joan greets with a little too much enthusiasm and a sly smile.

 

_Damn her. Damn her to hell._

 

Vera narrows her eyes.“What is it that you want, Joan?”

 

The smile grows. Its appearance turns Cheshire. Mischievousness and maddening.“Perhaps I just wanted a bit of company.”

 

Storm clouds thunder in blue eyes. She doesn’t have time for this nonsense.  

 

A thick heady moment passes. 

 

The playful glint lingers for a bit longer before finally disappearing into seriousness.“I have a request.”

 

Vera sniffs humorlessly and crosses her arms. “You are in no position to make requests. Or did you forgot where you are?”

 

A perfectly sculpted sable brow lifts. Joan rises to her full height and glides over to the plexiglas. Her stature still somehow managing to remain intimidating even behind the protective barrier.

 

Joan searches her. Testing. Contemplating, probing for any weaknesses. Finally, Lilith speaks.

 

“What do think Channing will say when he finds out the woman you fought so desperately to get reinstated is the very same one you’ve been fucking?” The threat thinly veiled is all too real.

 

Vera’s eyes go wide as her face colours.“We’re not-” She stops suddenly remembering where they are, glances around and lowers her voice to an angry hiss.“That’s not a problem anymore.”

 

“Yes, well unfortunately for you and Ms. Westfall, Channing doesn’t know that.”

 

“You...But we-”

 

“I'm willing to bet, however, Channing isn’t the main problem, is he? No, I don’t imagine so given the amount of hypocrisy that would be evolved.” A quick disgusted twist of the nose accompanies the statement. “Franky, on the other hand,” Joan tuts. “Oh dear, Vera. You’ve gotten yourself it quite the pickle, haven’t you?”

 

This threat is far more serious. If Franky ever were to find out. Vera shudders at the mere thought.

 

The mouse squirms within the jaws of the lioness. Teeth lower but do not cut. It’s too late she’s trapped.

 

Tightening her jaw, Vera gives in. “What’s your request?”

 

Lips slowly curving into a pleased smile, Joan turns back to her meek cell and returns back a few moments later with an envelope in hand. “I need you to send this off for me.”

 

Vera eyes the letter suspiciously. “Who is it for?”

 

Joan’s face remains passive, but dark eyes glint briefly at the slight insubordination. “Who’s it for, is none of your concern. Just make sure it’s delivered.”

 

Vera shoots one final rebellious glare before reaching for her utility belt.

 

A single turn of the key opens the gates of hell, revealing the devil herself wearing nothing on her face but a ‘come and get it’ smirk and even when the lamb spots the sacrificial blade glinting behind a broad back she’s hopeless against its call.

 

The duo stands toe to toe. Nose to chest. Two forces aligned in the midst of chaos. One glaring with the hatred of a thousand suns. The other vibrating with barely contained amusement. It’s a comical sight really. Something akin to a mouse squaring up to a cat for a bit of milk.

 

A brave, but inevitably deadly move. 

 

Keeping glaring eyes firmly attached to the malevolent presence before her, Vera hesitantly albeit determinedly reaches envelope, she gives it a vicious yank only to have the grip around it tighten. Vera glances down at the item and furrows her brow in confusion as if it's to blame. She tugs harder. It doesn’t budge.

 

Blue eyes drift back to Joan's face where an irritatingly little smirk has taken over. 

 

_She's playing games again._

Blood roars in Vera's ears as rage gnaws at her belly. “Joan, let-”

 

Akin to a tether on an energetic kelpie pup Joan snatches the envelope back forcefully with Vera attached, bringing them impossibly close.

 

Joan leans down. Nude lips ghosting over the shell of Vera’s ear. “You know, if I had known of your preferences beforehand than our relationship would’ve been a lot more _interesting_.” She purrs provocatively, deliberately letting her heated breath blanch over bronze skin with each word.  

 

Vera shivers with an odd mixture of feelings she’ll doubtlessly dwell on later that night. In bed. Underneath a protective layer of darkness and bedcovers. She quickly steps back. A masking scowl etched across her face. “You disgust me.”

 

A low positively filthy hum. “Say that again except slower.”

 

Face flooding red, Vera scoffs and leaves, ignoring the laughter trailing behind her. _Bitch_

 

She waits until she's at a safe distance before finally turning her attention to the letter in hand.

 

_Shane Butler_

 

Chestnut brows furrow. The name is entirely unfamiliar to her. Another lawyer, perhaps. Or doctor. There’s no telling with Joan. Well, she’ll just have to see then. Vera resumes her journey with purpose eager to get to her computer.

 


	2. Chapter 2

  
The next afternoon brings Vera once again to the outskirts of no man’s land where she is not even acknowledged fully before the torture begins.

 

“I trust you’ve handled my request.” Joan says, idly turning the page of the ironically titled Of Mice and Men.

 

The ‘request’ referred to being a letter addressed to one Mr. Shane Butler from Joan Ferguson herself. Its contents, Vera had a strong inkling of given her own bit of research, but wisely did not open it.   

 

“Yes,”

 

“And?” She drawls out in a somewhat knowing tone that makes Vera hackles raise.

 

“It’s done.”

 

“ExcellenT,”

 

“Is that all?” Vera snaps impatiently.

 

Joan glances up and studies her for a few seconds, eyes pensive. Suddenly the corner of her lips twitches. Once. Twice. Then curls into a cruel coy smile. “Why, Gov'nor you seem a bit touchy. What’s the matter? Things been a bit too  _dry_ here of late?”

 

Vera opens her mouth to fire back a retort, but thinks better of it. No, she wasn’t doing this. Wasn’t going to fall into the same trap. She huffs and turns to leave only to be stopped by a faint ‘wait’.

 

“Before you go, there’s something I want to do.”

 

Vera eyes her with cautious suspension as the other woman glides over to the plexiglass.

 

“I want to-- play little game. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.” The slow curling smile which follows is positively demonic. “Quid pro quo.”

 

A wave of cold washes over Vera. The memory of Bridget’s execution at the sharp ends of this game was still fresh in her mind and if a psychologist was only able to last but a few minutes Vera herself didn’t stand a snowball's chance.

 

“No, I’m not playing that game especially with you.”

 

A calculating pause.

 

“Oh well, I suppose I’ll just have to find a more willing candidate--Channing perhaps.”

 

The grip around proverbial balls tightens. Fuck.

 

Back against the wall, Vera is unable to stop herself from lashing out. “You are such a fucking bitch.”

 

“My, what teeth you have now. Better to bite a chunk out of Ms. Westfall, eh?” Joan flashes her a roguish grin before her expression falls into a mock sympathetic one.“But oh wait, Franky Doyle already beat you to the full course meal.”

 

The barb hits home reopening freshly closed wounds. Vera's whiplike anger diminishes. Turning into a pitiful grumbly growl. “Fuck you.”

 

A throaty chuckle.“While I don’t think that’s wise given our current roles. I’m open to suggestion.” Joan whispers, dragging her gaze suggestively over Vera’s body and when their eyes met again she smiles lecherously.

 

Vera’s eyelids narrow, yet entirely of their own accord, stormy blues descend to the swell of breasts barely brushing against the glass. She licks her lips.    

 

“Turn off those little cameras and I’ll let you have a feel.” Comes a salacious whisper.

 

Startled, Vera’s gaze snaps back up only to meet an irritatingly smug face. Bronze cheeks burn hotly. “I-I you,” She tries, sputters and falls right on her face.

 

Laughter ensues. Low, diabolical and oddly sexy. It grates with every boost.

 

Exasperated at being the brunt of yet another joke, Vera slaps the glass thankfully silencing the woman immediately. “Stop it! I mean it! Stop it or I’ll leave.”

 

A tiny chest heaves as behind the glass expresso eyes twinkle, tickled to no end at Vera's expense. The mouse is so very adorable when angry, but even a lioness knows when time to quit. Amusement slowly fading away to seriousness once more. Joan decides albeit reluctantly to break their ridiculous standoff. 

 

“Very well, let’s try this again, shall we?” She clasps her hands in front of her sternum. This wasn't going to be the same poker game held with Westfall. There will be no bluffs or calls. Just a blunt face down show of hand. “Quid pro quo, Vera. What was your relationship with Jacqueline Holt?”

 

The name prompts a dramatic flinch. There are a few things Vera has done in her life that she's not particularly proud of but nothing, even Joan, compares to the overall shit show she was apart of when Jacs was alive. 

 

_Bright eyed and bushy tailed a painfully green Vera Bennett is only on her second round of the day when she stumbles across a brutal bashing in progress. Two large enforcers are holding up the smaller limp body of a young woman whilst a third pummels her mercilessly. Mighty fists slamming into an exposed belly. They take pound for pound of the flesh owned to them._

 

_Vera freezes at the sight. All those intense hours of training seems to flee her all at once, leaving her defenceless and fear struck. She watches onward, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape._

 

_A hand lands on her shoulder snapping the officer to attention. She turns. Jacs is standing just to the side of her. Face passive, eyes like frozen sapphires. Her stare alone holds Vera in place."We're not going to have a problem here, are we Ms. Bennett?"_

_"I-I..." She darts her gaze back to the fight just in time to see a_ _particularly harsh blow to the face and blood spraying across the vinyl flooring._

 

_The jaws of panther tighten painfully, scruffing the back of her neck. "Are we, Vera?"_

 

_It’s said with an underlying threat. Akin to a mother threatening their child to behave before they enter a store. It makes Vera’s heart thud and shift uncomfortably. Too many times she's caught the end of whatever Rita Bennett could get her gnarled hands on after that particular tone._

_Vera swallows thickly and shakes her head. "No,"_

 

_"Good girl." The tone is purely condescending, but the warm swell of pride it causes is undeniable._

 

Vera blinks herself back to the present. Her hands and lip trembling with the long-buried memories. “ _Nonono_. I told you, I’m not doing this with you.”

 

Joan leans down to her level. Dark eyes glinting victoriously in the gloom.“Oh, but my dear you already are.”

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

“It felt good, didn’t it?” Joan slowly straightens. “Being useful for once. Included. Receiving the praise you desperately wished for.”

 

Vera’s eyes briefly dart away. The truth ringing clearly in just that one little action.

 

“Of course, like your mother Jacs motives were less than innocent, weren’t they? She used you for her own personal gain.”

 

Eyes close as memories flood Vera’s mind. God, the horrible things she did back then.  
  
  


The things she didn’t do.

 

A chestnut bun gives a shake expelling past regrets akin to an etch a sketch. Vera looks back at Joan with a new clarity. Anger.“Enough. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Least of all with you."

 

One heartbeat leads to twenty pounding ones.

 

“Alright then.”   
  
  
  
Joan uncharacteristically concedes only to continue anew. And this time there is no circling. This time the lion leaps for her prey. 

  
  
“How did your little,” She pauses as if searching for the appropriate word.“affairwith Ms. Westfall begin? Did she start it or did you somehow gain a boost of confidence.”

 

Bridget. Vera’s chest stung with the fresh betrayal. In hindsight, she should’ve known a beautiful woman such as that wouldn’t be interested in any type of relationship with her of all people. Still, there was hope. Ill-advised juvenile hope.

 

_ God, she was such an idiot. _

 

“Ah, I see.”  Joan remarks knowingly. 

 

Vera grounds her teeth together. Well, if Joan wants to play a game she’ll play it. “Exactly who is Shane Butler?”

 

Instead of the anger she was hoping for Joan merely sounds oddly proud. “Ha. Straight for the jugular just how I taught you. Very good, Vera.” She purrs the last part with a satisfied smirk. Then continues in her usual jewel encrusted tone. “If you must know, Shane is my ex-lover’s son.”

 

Joan gives no further explanation and Vera through no small effort on her part did not press the matter-yet.

 

“Now, back to you. Did you and Ms.Westfall fuck in my-pardon me, I mean your office?”

 

 

_ Arms wrapped around her waist as lips pressed hot kisses to the back of her neck. A slurred aristocratic voice tickles her ear. “You smell so fucking good.” _

 

_ Vera white knuckles the desk, shifting her hips backwards against Bridget’s in an unspoken request for more-always more. _

 

_ Obligingly the touch descends. _

 

“A fantasy office lesbian tryst. How very  _ quaint _ .” Joan bites out the sharp taste of disgust on her tongue.

 

Vera bristles at the tone and something deep down snaps at the end of its painfully short chain. 

 

“Oh, what’s the matter, Joan? Angry we defiled your desk?” The smirk on the Governer's face grows, turning into a nasty little smile. “Oh wait, it’s not your office anymore, is it? It’s mine.”

 

Eyelids narrow just slightly and nostrils flare. Oh, ‘Aunty Joni’ didn’t like that, did she? Good.

 

The brief petty high lasts but a moment before it’s predictably shot down.

 

“Well, at least it’s getting some use or other.” Joan drawls out and pain shoots through Vera’s jaw when she clamps down a bit too harshly.

 

_ Bitch _

 

Through clenched teeth, Vera decides to continue her own pursuit.“Was the ex-lover you referred to, the inmate in the picture?”

 

Joan’s features darken further.“Yes, but I suppose you already know that.”

 

“I may have asked around.” Vera admits unapologetically. Truthfully all she did was a few internet searches and there it was Joan’s secret.

 

A disbelieving snort.

 

_ Oh, fuck no. _

 

“You doubt me still?” Vera does a quick search of Joan’s face and sees it clearly now. The doubt, the anger, the betrayal. Of course, she does.“I can’t believe this, you still doubt me? Even after everything. You still think I’m the one who posted those pictures in your office.”

 

When she’s met with silence. “What motive could I have possibly had to betray you in such a way?”

 

Joan zeros in on the golden crowns.”I think that’s rather obvious.”

 

Vera follows her gaze and scoffs. She snaps back at Joan.“Oh for fuck sakes, I never wanted this job. Your job. I-”

 

Joan cuts her off. Dark eyes smouldering at Vera. Bottom lip twitching madly. “I think that’s enough for right now, Gov’na.” She slinks back into the shadows, leaving Vera to glare at the glass.

* * *

 

Later on, with her mind still reeling over the day’s events, Vera’s just barely settled in with her after work when a tentative knock sounds at her door. Who on earth? She never had any visitors and the last one--well, she chooses not to dwell.

 

“Bridget?”

 

The blonde gives a tight smile accompanied with a lame little wave. “Hello, Vera.”


End file.
